Faults
by Siriusly in Lurve
Summary: They brought out the best and the worst in each other; clearly, the worst was more common.
1. Chapter 1

James Potter had problems. A lot of them.

He talked too much, he laughed too loudly, he was always late, he never wore his uniform properly, he was much too self-assured, he swore in every other sentence, he had a smoking problem, he got smashed much more than someone at the age of sixteen should've –more than anyone should've, really. He did stupid, dangerous, impulsive things, he preferred to solve things with his fists rather than his words, he never knew where to draw the line, never followed the rules, had quite the smart mouth and a raging temper which often resulted in the aforementioned conflicts with fists.

So, in short, James Potter was far from perfect. Yet, this was the image he was always given. Perfect James, with his perfect grades, perfect messy hair, perfect charm, perfect smile, perfect Quidditch playing, perfect attitude and perfect amount of discipline (or lack thereof.)

Yeah, right.

James did not consider himself to have half of these things. Sure, he was terribly over-confident when it came to his looks and his attitude with girls, but other than that, he wasn't particularly self-assured about anything else. It may have seemed as though he was, but it was mostly a show that he liked to put on. Being the only child of elderly parents, he was rather used to calling a lot of attention to himself. This, of course, was another one of the problems he had.

It was the previously mentioned list of faults that resulted in him being where he was now, heading to detention. His impulses had led to him drinking heavily before class, after finding out his parents were in St. Mungo's _again_ due to their poor states of health, and therefore showing up to class off his face. Now, maybe it would not had been noticed were in not for his other qualities, such as talking too much, laughing too loudly, swearing too often and having a smart mouth. But unfortunately, he did have these qualities, and with the help of them, Horace Slughorn, his Potions professor did indeed detect the drunken boy, rambling, cursing, sniggering and hiccoughing at his seat. And James' smart mouth caused him to answer, when asked of his behaviour, 'What does it look like, Sluggy? Well shit-faced, I am,'

As one can imagine, Professor Slughorn had not taken to this answer very well.

So now, after having been given a sobering draught and completing the day's classes, James was walking to his first detention of the month of punishment he was receiving for his behaviour. He was bloody pissed about it too, but he consoled himself by remembering the fact that at least Quidditch season hadn't started. _What a way that would be to start my term as Captain_, he thought. Not being able to attend his own practices because he was in detention.

He shook his head and opened the door of the Trophy Room, where he was told to come that night for his punishment. He expected to find McGonagall there, a thin scowl on her face as she expressed her disappointment in him. But who he saw in front of him made his eyes widen to the size of saucers.

Lily Evans.

Prefect, non-troublemaker, good girl Lily Evans.

"What the bloody hell are _you_ doing here, Evans?" James blurted out almost immediately. There went his overactive mouth again.

Behind him, a voice said, "Miss Evans is here because she, like you, has not followed Hogwarts rules and must learn the consequences of that." James turned to see Minerva McGonagall, his Transfiguration teacher and Head of Gryffindor house. She looked disapprovingly at James's unkempt uniform, but did not comment on it. He supposed she grew aware that he was past the point of improving his standard of dress. "Now, I expect every trophy in this room to be properly polished, no magic. If you do not complete this task, then you will have an extra night added to your punishment. And yes, Mr. Potter, I do mean an extra night along with your month-long detentions. Get to work." With those words, she took her leave.

As soon as the door shut, James turned back to Evans. "So really, Evans, how the bloody hell did you, the epitome of good behaviour, end up in detention with me tonight?"

"None of your business, Potter," grumbled Evans, reaching for a rag and the polish. She picked up the nearest award and began to rub it rather forcefully.

"Someone's a little touchy," mumbled James, rumpling his hair and grabbing another award as well as a rag. He hummed under his breath as he shined the trophy, which funnily enough, was one of his dad's. He noticed that Evans' mood seemed to worsen as he hummed, and amused by this, James hummed louder. Evans threw him a dirty look and a smirk spread across his face. This is why he'd enjoyed picking on her throughout their younger years. She was simply too easily ruffled.

Evan's jaw clenched as he began to whisper the lyrics song he'd been humming to. Celestina Warbeck wasn't a particular favourite of his, but her songs _were_ catchy. And it made his detention all the more entertaining to watch a scarlet flush creep up on Evan's cheeks as she so obviously tried to contain her irritation.

"_Oh my poor heart, where has it gone_?" he sang quietly. "_It's left me for a spell_."

"Would you _shut_ _up?_" demanded Evans. "Some people are trying to concentrate." Her knuckles were white at this point as she polished the trophy furiously.

James snorted. "Because it takes so much concentration to polish a bloody _trophy._" He set down his father's trophy and headed over to the cabinet to grab another one. But he did not return to his spot afterward. He leaned against a table near Evans. She shifted slightly, visibly irked by his presence closer to her. "So, Red, you never did finish that story about how you got detention."

Evans grabbed another trophy as well and raised an eyebrow at him. "I don't believe I started that story, Potter."

"Well, let's have it then, Evans," he said with a grin.

She blatantly ignored his request, focusing on her new trophy. In response to her reaction, James used a free hand to grab a flyaway lock of her hair. He played with it as he murmured, "C'mon, Red, it can't be half as bad as some of the stuff I've done. And trust me, I've done _loads_ of terrible stuff,"

"Fine," said Evans. He dropped her hair. It was James's turn to raise an eyebrow. "I'll tell you why I'm here tonight, if you tell me why you're here."

"Sure," agreed James. "'Coz of the stunt I pulled on the Hufflepuff common room," he lied easily. If he explained the true reason for his punishment, she'd ask why he'd gone and drank so much. And Merlin knew how hard it was for him to lie while talking about his parents. He'd only told Sirius _everything_, and that was only because he lived with the Potters, and it was a hard fact to hide while living in the same house. Even Remus and Peter had only heard about one of the earlier St. Mungo's trips, and that was only because he'd left the letter he'd received on the floor.

"Liar," Evans responded. "Hestia was involved in that too, and the punishment for that ended ages ago,"

James mentally cursed, but said to her, "Maybe I didn't polish my trophies properly, Red. You know how I like to live on the wild side." he added, smirking.

"You didn't. Hest would've complained that she had to all the work if you had." she replied, a small smirk of her own. They both grabbed new trophies, and the two continued to lean on the table.

_Damn this bird for being so smart,_ thought James, half-impressed and half-irritated. "Fine, it was something I did with my mates. Got into a fight with some Slytherins and whatnot." This idea was entirely plausible. Given his faults of temper and resolution-of-conflicts-with-fist, this was a frequent occurrence. In fact, James was almost surprised that he _hadn't_ gotten into an altercation with members of the opposing house in a while. He made a mental note to remind Sirius of the lack of attention to Slytherins as of late.

"Potter, if you're not going to tell me the real story, why should I tell you mine? I know it wasn't a fight with the Slytherins either, because you haven't mentioned in any fights reported by Prefects or teachers in the past week. Nor have you in have any pranks, so don't you try that."

_Bloody hell_. James let out a frustrated sigh. "I was drunk, Red," he gritted through his teeth grudgingly.

Her trophy clattered to the floor.

"What?" she said, shocked. Evans bent down to pick it up, and James noted her wide eyes.

"Drunk. Intoxicated. Inebriated. Sloshed, smashed, off my face, take your pick."

"_When?_ _Why?_" Evans asked, incredulity in her voice.

James tossed his current trophy aside and took a new one. He concentrated on the words on it as he spoke. _Tom Riddle, for services to the school_. "In Potions. Because I felt like it. Happy, now? Your turn." he said, harshly.

"Potter, you can't expect me to believe that. You'd do a lot of stupid things, but I highly doubt you're unintelligent enough to show up to class intoxicated for no good reason."

"_Your. Turn._" he repeated in the same severe tone. He didn't want to speak about his parents, and he certainly didn't like the softness of her tone. He needed no sympathy, and he wouldn't have it, especially not from her. He got enough of that from the Healers when he went to visit his parents. In his head, he wanted to tell her to thank her lucky stars she was a female, or he'd have punched her by now for pressing the matter.

Evans crossed her arms determinedly. "I haven't heard the full story yet, Potter. You said you'd tell me why you were here, and the reason why you got sloshed has to do with the reason why you're in detention. I'm not going to share my story yet." The Gryffindor appeared to remain obstinate, in both her stance and mind-frame.

"Fine, Evans. Maybe I was just _that stupid._ Maybe I was fucking thick enough to show up to class after more than a bottle of firewhiskey. Maybe I'm just that much of an_ idiot_, an arrogant _sod_, who thinks he's exempt from the rules. Is that what you want to hear, hm? You want to hear about how much of a_ toerag_ I am?" he spat out.

She looked taken aback for a moment, and then angry. "I was _concerned_, you idiot. I may not like you, but it's not _normal_ for a sixteen year old bloke to go on a drinking binge for no apparent reason! You don't have to be so rude about it,"

James laughed mirthlessly. "Please, Red. I was just repeating some of the _kinder _phrases you used last year. So excuse me if I don't give a shit about your feelings any more than you did mine."

Evans turned red, whether with embarrassment or anger, he was not certain. "You deserved what I said. You humiliated Sev– Snape. You bullied people left and right, just because you were bored. And you embarrassed me in front of everyone with your silly displays."

"I had my reasons for what we did to Snape. I don't have to explain myself. I may have been a git to some people, but what's done is done. Embarrassed _you_, Evans? How do you think it felt to be rejected in front of our entire year? Did you ever even take into consideration that your little tirades might bother me the least bit?"

"Then you shouldn't have asked in front of our entire year, Potter. Especially not after hurting my best friend. Please, don't pretend for a moment anything other than your ego was damaged, which it could do with now and then. You screwed up _my _life. I'm the one who lost a best friend. I'm the one who was pressured for date, just because you wanted another notch in your bedpost." She looked at him with disgust and then turned her gaze away, going back to work.

James knew her accusations were wrong, and hated it. He wished that he could have wanted her as _just another notch in his bedpost._ But he never would. "You still haven't told me your story." he said, brushing off her comments.

"You still haven't finished yours," Evans retorted, still scowling.

He decided enough was enough. "Someone close to me... is not well." James settled on finally. It was true, and she could probably tell from his tone that he didn't want to talk about it. "That's why I got sloshed."

The scowl quickly left her face. "Oh," she said, her face holding understanding.

"Don't bring it up to anyone. S'not something I want spread around." he muttered. He wished he'd brought a package of smokes with him. Though it was probably better he hadn't. He might've gone through half the pack by now, and he imagined McGonagall wouldn't take too kindly to that. He ran a hand through his hair. He waited for the sympathy, the, 'I'm so sorry' that he'd gotten so many times from almost every person to find out.

"I punched Severus." was her response.

Now _he _dropped _his _trophy. "Excuse me?" he said as he picked it up from the floor.

Evans blushed, and looked down at the award she was polishing. "He called Mary the M-word, and then tried to apologize to _me_ for it... I got really frustrated, and I punched him. Gave him a nosebleed. Unfortunately, Professor McGonagall happened to be walking by at that particular instant."

A grin spread across his face. "Red, you dirty little hypocrite. You go reprimanding me and the lads for 'altercations in the corridors' and then you go and give a Slythergit a left hook? How's that work out morally?"

"I– I don't claim to be proud of it. But it's why I'm here tonight." she murmured, her blush darkening.

James nudged her slightly. "Getting into fights with Slytherins, doing detentions, you may fit in well with my lot now. Scary thought, isn't it?"

"Don't compare me to you and your mates. One little punch is hardly the same as years of bullying, pranking and general mischief, Potter." the redhead scoffed.

James had a wide smirk. "Whatever you say, Red."

Evans rolled her eyes. "Why do you insist upon calling me that awful nickname?" she asked, not for the first time. There had been many other instances, in which she had demanded (in less polite tones) the answer as to why he chose to dub her thus. Most of his answers had either been 'because I can', or a smarmy smirk. "Do you enjoy giving people names that scar and/or irk them for the rest of their lives?"

"Would you prefer Princess? Or perhaps, Carrot-Top? Because those were on the list as well when I was deliberating. Maybe you'd enjoy Sirius's pick: 'Madame Stick-in-her-arse.'" He recalled the day on the train, just after he and Sirius had encountered Snape and her. They'd already come up with a nickname for Snape, and wanted one for the haughty red-haired girl who'd stood by him. Sirius was very stubborn in his choice, but James decided 'Red' fit her better.

"Suddenly, I can put up with Red." replied Evans.

James sniggered. "Thought so." He ran a hand through his hair and sat on the table as he polished. "So, how long did your socking of Snivellus get you in here for?"

Evans frowned. "A week. I'm not so certain it's necessary. It was my first fight, and I've certainly learned my lesson."

"And what was that? 'One should not duff up Slytherins... where professors can see you?'" he questioned mockingly.

"Of course that's the type of message _you _would get out of the situation." she muttered, grabbing another award an rubbing at it distractedly. James peered over at it and saw with amusement that it was his, for Quidditch. He'd recieved it at the end of his fifth year. She probably hadn't noticed the engraving, or she'd have chosen another. "The lesson was not to duff up Slytherins at all."

"Good thing it wasn't my lesson to learn," James commented, throwing the smaller trophy he had in his hands back and forth. The tiny golden prize reminded him vaguely of a snitch. He remembered the snitch he'd nicked in fifth year. He'd stopped playing with it as of late. It was most likely at the bottom of his trunk, under bits of parchment, rotten sweets and clothing that no longer fit him. But this trophy worked well enough for refining his reflexes.

He glanced at his watch. Noticing the time, he set his pseudo-snitch and his rag down and hopped off the table. As if on cue, Professor McGonagall walked into the room. Without a word to either Gryffindor, she inspected the trophies they'd polished. She gave a brisk nod of approval. "Tomorrow you will both be cleaning the cages for the animals used in Transfiguration class. Be in my classroom by seven." She dismissed them and swept out of the room.

"Bye, Red," called James loudly as he sauntered out of the room. He sent a wink her way, and as he turned his head, he _swore_ he saw her smirk the tiniest bit.

And the next day, he would make sure that he cleaned especially slow. No matter how much of an annoyance it would be to spend more time amongst the animal droppings. Because, of all of James's faults, his addiction to Lily Evans had to be the worst of them all.

_Disclaim._


	2. Chapter 2

Lily Evans always knew James Potter had problems.

This isn't to say that she wasn't aware of her own. She spoke too quickly, was much too stubborn, was annoyingly curious, had a less than feminine laugh, was exceptionally neurotic about her uniform, was quite the brown-noser, and contrastingly, had an on and off rebellious streak which caused her to do many things she regretted at very young ages. She was far too judgmental, chewed on her lips until they bled, hadn't cried since she was nine and had a violent temper and a sharp tongue, causing her to be often argumentative to the point of senselessness. She also had acceptance issues with the fact she was a witch– she often felt confused about which world she belonged in.

That being said, it was hard to feel as faulted as one might when in the company of a person such as James Potter. He had his faults on display; they were so plainly obvious to everyone that it seemed those around him warped them into sounding much better than they were. His hair-rustling was an adorable habit, they said, and his hair wasn't exactly his fault. His grades were a testament to his brilliance, though no one noticed how much he tried to hide the fact he had to work for them; what sort of person hides their better sides? So many things they saw. Confident, not cocky; amusing, not disrespectful; child-like, not cruel and hurtful. But he was all of the latter adjectives, and funnily enough it seemed that he knew, but didn't care to change it. He was as stubborn as she.

Lily had witnessed just how stubborn the boy could be on her very first detention that she shared with him, just one night ago. He was most unwilling to tell the truth, and was very stiff when he revealed what he did. She did learn that someone close to him was ill, though. As promised she kept it to herself, but she could not help wonder who it was. She did not want to make the evening any more awkward by stuttering out an empathetic apology (her father had passed away some time ago because of a long-term disease, and was familiar with how irritating it was to be constantly apologized to) and instead blurted out her own story of what lead to her punishment.

He did not extend her the same courtesy of privacy. He called out in the corridor that very day as she passed a fellow sixth-year, "Watch it, Avery, I wouldn't get too close. Evans has been known to beat up Slythergit first-years for giving her the stink eye."

Lily had wanted to hit him. But she hadn't, because she was late for Charms.

Now she found herself heading to another appointment it was prudent not to be late for: detention. Her second one of the week, in fact. Today she was to clean the cages of the animals used in the Transfiguration classes, a duty that she'd heard her friends speak less than fondly of. Not to say that she hadn't had detention herself before (four, including the previous night) but the other than polishing trophies, she ended up brewing a draught with Slughorn, which wasn't really a punishment to her at all.

She sighed and pulled open the door of the classroom, expecting to see Professor McGonagall looking sternly at the prefect.

Lily was quite mistaken.

"'Lo, Red," Potter waved mockingly, sitting in the chair behind their professor's desk.

She frowned deeply, and looked down at her watch. "Potter, why are you here? I'm a good five minutes early. You're never on time, much less early, for _anything_ and this is detention."

Potter shrugged, folding his hands behind his over-sized head. "My mates are busy, and I got bored. Decided to have a look around the classroom. Did you know Davey Gudgeon got a _D_ on this past essay? And I heard the git bragging in the halls that he was sure he'd receive top marks." An infuriating smirk spread over his erubescent lips as he brandished a yellowed parchment with a messy scribble decorating it.

Lily snatched the paper out of his hands, and placed it back on the table amongst similar papers. "That's an awful thing to do, Potter. How would you like it if someone came in and had a laugh over your essay?"

If possible, the smirk widened, his face dimpling in contrast to the mockery of a smile which he donned. "It wouldn't happen, Evans. I get straight _O's_ in Transfig. For all she says, dearest McG loves her little prodigy."

There it was, that _arrogance_. That overbearing conceit which drove her blind with rage at points. It was unbending, a constant trait that never left him, which was confused for wit most often. It left her filled with disgust and she was about to respond to his remark, when a voice cut across her. "I would appreciate, Mr. Potter, if you showed a little more respect when speaking of your professors. Your exam marks may show potential, but I highly doubt that the Auror program will accept an applicant whose disciplinary record shows no level of regard for authority." Minerva McGonagall's authoritative tone was something that was not questioned, even by someone as impudent as James Potter.

It was clear that McGonagall was one of the few people in Hogwarts who received any semblance of obedience from Potter. For whatever pranks and mischief he got up to, none occurred in her classroom. For whatever harsh remarks he might make of professors who'd slighted him, he would not hear a word against her. Even as he sat in her chair, it only took a glance at him for him to rise gracefully to stand before her. "Duly noted, Professor." he said, with no hint of sarcasm.

Without a word of approval or otherwise, their teacher led them to foul-smelling cages. The animals that normally were contained in these cages were not in sight. Lily wondered vaguely if perhaps McGonagall had transfigured them into something temporarily. The head of Gryffindor repeated what their duties of the evening were, collected their wands and took her leave as she had the previous night.

Potter picked up what seemed like a tool used for scraping. Unfamiliar with this process, she grabbed the same one and glanced at his methods before starting on her own. They worked in silence, nothing but the scratching of their tools against the cages to be heard. Oddly, it was the prefect who broke the silence on this night. "I went to visit Severus in the hospital wing today," she said.

"Your punch landed him in the hospital wing, did it? Always knew the bloke was a weakling. Can't even handle a bird half his weight," Potter muttered with a snort. However, his hands seemed to work more furiously at the cage, his knuckles whitening as he held the instrument in a too-tight grasp.

"You see, that's what I'd thought too," Lily said, slowing her pace, "But when I walked in to see how he was doing, he had much more damage done to him than my one hit could've caused. Madame Pomfrey told me he'd received a black eye, a strong stinging hex to the face and a broken rib. When I asked him who'd done it, his swollen face said something like, 'Potto'. Strange, isn't it?" She risked a glance at the boy next to her.

A muscle in the Quidditch player's jaw twitched. "Quite. If I ever see this Potto fellow, I'll be sure to congratulate him."

"It's rare that you see such physical damage inflicted. Normally, it'd all be magical wounds. But it seemed whoever attacked Severus had started off magically, and then progressed to fighting the Muggle way. Very unlike most students at our school."

"Seems a lot like you, Red. Perhaps you've got a copycat on your hands, trying to finish your job on dear _Sev_." His mouth warped the childhood nickname into something ugly, unworthy of the boy whom Lily had been so close to as a child. He may have grown apart from her since the incident by the lake, but she could not help caring for him still, loathe as she was to admit in front her friends.

She scowled at him. "Don't say his name like that, Potter." She wiped down the cage she was cleaning and replaced the paper at the bottom before moving on to her next object.

"Like what, _Lily_?" he asked her. His tone had changed as he called her by her given name for the first time in who knew how long. He said her name challengingly, as if daring her to demand he revert to surnames. It contained no trace of the ugliness the other name had, but it did have an underlying tone that Lily could not begin to decipher.

"As if you're better than him, _James_," Lily answered, rising to his bait and inflicting as much disgust into her voice as his held when speaking of Severus.

Potter threw down the rag he had used to wipe his own cage. His hands balled into fists, as if he'd like to fight her physically if he could. "Unbelievable," he spat. "Even after all that, you still think better of him? That you can change him or rescue him from his path? It's false hope, Evans. His path was set from the moment he sat at his house table."

"Listen to you!" exclaimed the red-head incredulously. She dropped her supplies to glare at him. "Do you realize what a hypocrite you are? You speak of Slytherin house the same way purists speak of Muggle-borns. You blame an entire group of people for something they cannot control and target them for it,"

"Do _not_ compare me to them," he growled, his eyes flashing dangerously. "You don't seem to understand that any hatred towards that house is justified. Why do you think they have a reputation as purist bastards? Because they're up to their elbows in the dark arts and do much worse things to girls like you than stinging hexes and broken ribs. Would you be so understanding of your dear Severus if you heard of the things he's been up to with those vile mates of this? Things he has stood by and watched, if not participated in?" He advanced towards her, grasping her shoulders. "Would you?"

Lily jerked out of his hands. "I don't make excuses for what Severus has done, but I certainly will not attack him or anyone else of Slytherin to achieve some bloody vendetta against them. All you're doing is fueling the hatred between houses. The world is not so black and white that Slytherins are equivalent to Death Eaters."

"You attacked him just the other day!" shouted Potter, slamming a fist on the table. "And while being Slytherin does not mean you're a Death Eater, you would be blind not to see that Muggle hatred emanates from that house more than any other. If I want to teach someone a bloody lesson about equality, I will!" A slew of swear words followed this speech and the boy reached wildly into his pocket, searching for something. He cursed again as he realized whatever object he wanted was not in his pocket, muttering something about what a damned thief Sirius Black was.

"So you think the way to teach someone not to hate, is to spread more hatred? If you can reach someone before they choose their side, they may choose to fight for good. That is, if they are not persecuted beforehand by people who judge them just for their house. It would only dissuade them from siding the same as you. For whatever he's done, Severus Snape is not a Death Eater." Lily breathed heavily, flushed and annoyed as she finished yelling.

"Yet," Potter said, adding to a sentence which was not meant to be continued. "I wouldn't be surprised if some of his friends are well on their way to receiving Dark Marks." he hissed, his cerise mouth curling into a sneer.

Lily stepped closer, raising her chin at him defiantly. "That is not for you to judge, Potter. Every day the heights of your vanity astonish me."

His hand, which had been clenched previously, rose. For a moment Lily thought he might strike her. Instead, his hand moved to curl around her chin. He drew her face near to him as he could and she thought with incredulity what intentions this might show. Finally, he spoke into her ear in a nearly inaudible whisper, "Don't say I didn't warn you," before moving away from her and facing his cage once more.

"No," she said, placing her hands on her hips. She strode towards him and yanked him around to face her. She poked him in the chest as she continued. "You are not in the right here, and I refuse to let you condescend and pretend that you've come out victorious in this argument."

Potter grabbed her wrist, though not with the same roughness as earlier. His demeanour had changed; all traces of the uncontrollable anger from just minutes ago had left him. His behaviour now showed a cold calm that sparked the young woman's temper more than his yelling had. Where was the boy who had worn his heart -albeit dark and cruel at times- on display for the world to see? It frustrated her that she could not mimic this unaffected stance. "For all you speak of _my_ vanity..." he began softly, placing her arm by her side, "It appears to me that your pride is just as strong."

"In fact," he continued, twirling a loose section of her hair as he was wont to do, "You may be the most prideful person I know."

"I don't follow."

He laughed jeeringly, seeming to see humour in her statement. "No, you don't. You absolutely despise being second to anyone, especially me. It's why it pisses you off so much that I'm right about your so-called friend and the same reason why you will argue with me until you're blue in the face about anything from Slytherins, to house-elf rights, to Celestina Warbeck."

An angry flush spread across her face. She looked him straight in the eyes. Though shorter than him by several inches, she did not allow herself to be overshadowed by his height. She could see his hazel eyes narrow as she invaded his personal space, just as he had hers. "You're wrong. I have nothing to prove to you or anyone else. Don't you dare speak about me as if you know me."

"I do know you, Red," he replied, reverting back to the hated nickname. "I have known you for six years and you've always remained true to your character. Argumentative and stubborn beyond belief."

"Talking of stubborn, I think it proves you to be more pig-headed that you won't even admit the real reason you did what you did to Severus." said Lily, crossing her arms across her chest. She scowled as his gaze was drawn downward and lingered unashamedly.

"Then pray tell, oh wise and fair Evans, why _am_ I angry?" He began to circle her, not unlike a lion herding his lioness. It enraged her that a person so abhorrent moved with such deliberate grace. His tone, assuming as always, turned darker as he persisted to mock her. "Is it that I am _jealous_ of _Severus_ and his most desired position as prefect or his lovely circle of friends? Is it that I regret the fact _I_ was not chosen to walk amongst the house of 'purest of the pure'? Is it that I envy what a _healthy_ and _honest_ relationship he has -or had- with a girl such as yourself?" He smirked vindictively as his remark hit its target.

Lily was hesitant before about bringing out this low blow, but as he turned her broken friendship into a jest, she lost all reservations. "Because you don't want to face the fact that you might lose someone you love, so you'll cause him suffering so you don't have to deal with your own."

Potter went white and seemed to stop breathing. His hand flashed to the table where he'd kept his scraping tool. He launched the object at the door so swiftly she nearly missed it. It plunged it into the wood, quivering as it steadied. It was not close enough to hit her, but near enough to cause her heart to race as she realized just how livid he had become. The light in his eyes as he taunted her, for he clearly enjoyed his game, had left him. His nails dug into his palms in a violent manner as his lips formed an soundless snarl.

He looked down at her, staring at the girl as if she was something on the floor that nauseated him. "Tell McGonagall I'll take the extra night," he spat.

And it was to her violent temper and sharp tongue that Lily credited another day of punishment with Potter being added to her growing detention record.

_Disclaim._

_A/N: Whoops, another multi-chapter. Sorry folks, sometimes it happens.  
_


End file.
